Unlucky 13
by SimplyOlive
Summary: Cammie Morgan thinks she's a normal girl... until her dad is reported missing and strange letters are turning her world upside down. Will she accept who she is as she uncovers the truth about herself? Or will she reject the world she was born into?
1. Envelope 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own this series.**

**Hey people. This is my second fanfic. Enjoy!**

Most people want to be more than average. They want to be more than themselves. To be the best. To do something great. To feel special. To be different. I did too. But that was just it. I _did _is past tense. What do I say now? I say to those kind of people, "Be careful of what you wish for." My name is Cameron Morgan, a.k.a. Cammie. Welcome to the first day of the last day of my simple life.

I laid on the couch with my legs hanging off of the side arm. The windows were wide open, allowing the slight, evening breeze to cool me off. Silence rang through the house, filling every corner, except for the occasional _meow_. My cat Suzy rested lazily on my stomach. I don't know why she did that or why I even let her, but she looked too peaceful for me to shove off.

I sighed inwardly as I peered out of the window into the peripheral sunlight. The bright, beautiful summer was ending and I would have to go back to Roseville High School next week. I didn't like school. Even though I was the school genius and could kick ass in gym, I was invisible. People forgot me when I was standing right next to them. No joke. I know that most girls probably feel that way too (invisible I mean), but I've had someone sit on me once. Talk about _awkward_.

My cell phone rang and I looked at the caller ID. Instantly, my melancholy mood lifted as I flipped open the phone. "Hey," I greeted softly, as if I didn't want to ruin the constant quietness in the house. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Josh responded. "I just really missed you."

I giggled at my boyfriend. "You saw me fifteen minutes ago."

"It feels like ages though," he whined.

Before I could respond, the doorbell rang. "Hey, Josh, can you hold on for a sec? Someone's at the door." I pushed Suzy off gently, causing her to purr softly, and I shuffled forward, yawning all the while. My final days of freedom consisted of pure laziness and Josh. Believe me when I say I loved every second of it.

I swung open the door to see absolutely no one. The streets were eerily bare but as I turned to go back, something red caught my eye. I looked down to find a big, fat envelop on the doorstep. I scanned the empty streets quickly, wondering who could have put this here and left so discreetly. I warily bent forward and picked it up. The outside had cut-up letters from a magazine that formed two words: Cammie Morgan.

Who's this from? There wasn't any return address. There wasn't even _my _address, which was creepy. That must've meant that whoever gave me this letter didn't only know _where _I lived, but they also presented it here in person. I couldn't decide whether to open it or not. I mean, you've _seen_ those horror movies and murder mysteries where the main characters get these types of envelopes filled with threats or ransoms. You could see why I wasn't all too thrilled in opening it. As I contemplated this, I heard a voice from my cell saying, "Cammie? Cam, are you there?" Oh crap. I forgot about Josh.

"Yeah," I said into the phone, "sorry about that."

"That's OK," he responded but I barely heard him as I gazed out along the streets, my eyes moving from house to house. Unfortunately, the barren neighborhood answered none of my questions. I looked down to find my hands trembling. Whatever this letter was doing to me I didn't like it.

"Uh, Josh," I stuttered, "can I call you back?"

"Is everything OK?" he inquired. I could hear the worry in his voice.

"Yeah, of course," I answered reassuringly, "I just can't talk right now." I knew he didn't want to go. I didn't either but we hung up. Little did I know that this was the last time I would talk to him for awhile. Now all I had was this letter in front of me. Usually something like this didn't creep me out but this envelope had a freaky aura to it.

"Stop being an idiot," I whispered to myself as I returned to the couch. "It's just an envelope. It's probably a joke." Yeah. Someone just left you an unaddressed envelope and left without a minute trace. I laughed nervously at myself as I slit open the top. A watch along with a letter fell out and I hurriedly picked up the contents. The watch was a light, digital clock that held military time. _Great_. I'm not the quickest at reading military watches. I placed it gently on the table as I pulled out the letter, which was typed of course, from underneath the envelope. I held it under the light, to make sure all of this was real as I began to read:

_Cameron Morgan,_

_I must remain strictly confidential. I'm sorry to inform you that Mr. Morgan is missing as of this morning. We, as in your father and I, are close, even though you haven't heard of me. I can't tell you much, obviously, in case this letter is intercepted. However, I can tell you that you're in _grave _danger and that there is more to this than it seems. Keep an eye opened 24-7. More over, I would advise you to listen to my instructions. Mr. Morgan has encased a hundred dollars in his desk. Find it. Stapled on the back of this letter is a one way ticket to London. Your path, your instructions, are in these red envelopes and your next one is on the plane. If you're smart, you'll find it. Say nothing to anyone about anything. Your life is at stake._

_Sincerely,_

_A Friend_

_P.S. Take this watch as a gift. It doesn't look like much but it could come in handy later._

I drew in my breath sharply. This letter _had _to be fake. It _had _to be a joke. Dad said that he was coming home tomorrow night. Just because his business had him out of town a lot, didn't mean he was missing, right? And what did it mean when it said I was in grave danger? How can you be in danger in Roseville? I turned it over to the back, wondering why this person would bother to give me a ticket if this was fake. Or even grant me a really expensive looking watch. I was beginning to panic. My heart was speeding up and I could feel beads of sweat prickling down my forehead. If this was a prank, this person was _good_. If it wasn't a prank, if this was really real... then I would prefer the prank.

The bell rang again for the second time that day and I quickly stashed the envelope and its contents in a cupboard. I sprinted to the door to find a policeman, who greeted me, "Are you Cameron Morgan?" I wanted to say no. I wanted to be anyone but me but all I could do was nod my head.

"Your father is missing," he informed me slowly, cautiously. Suddenly this calm summer evening was turning upside down in a matter of minutes. And I knew barely anything. All I knew was that I had to follow the letter. I knew I couldn't stay here anymore. I knew I was heading to London. I knew that the earth was rushing to meet my head as I fainted.

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	2. Flight

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"Cameron," my dad yelled at me, "Cameron." He began to shake me _hard. _"Wake up." I groaned sleepily. Right now, I didn't care if I was late for the first day of school. This growing girl needed her sleep.

"No," I mumbled. "Five more minutes." But the shaking didn't cease. "OK, I give up!" I cried when the shaking had become overbearing. I blinked, trying to get the room into focus. Where was I? Why is my bed so hard? What's going on? I rubbed my eyes and found myself on the floor. That's when I remembered what _really _happened.

I couldn't believe I fainted. That was _so _embarrassing. I couldn't be the weak fifteen-year-old I was. Not now, especially when I was supposed to be at the airport in about half-an-hour _at the most_. Good thing my dad taught me to drive (a tractor) when I was ten. Dad. A sob caught at the back of my throat and my eyes began to water. Stop it! I scolded myself. I needed to _focus_. I _had _to get on that plane. According the letter, I was in grave danger and since half of it was true so far, I was going to take it seriously.

"Ms. Morgan," the officer stood over me, trying to help me up. "Are you all right?" I nodded and pulled away, trying to be strong.

"What happened to my dad?" I demanded, strangely calm as I began to bombard him with questions. I thought I would panic, but I didn't. I don't know what was with me, but I felt different instincts--not mine--click in. "Where was he last? Who do you think took him?"

"That's confidential," he answered me. Was everything confidential? When I was out of this mess, the first thing I was going to was to get to the bottom of this. "Ok, we're going to go back to the station. Is that all right with you?" _No_. I couldn't miss that flight. That was probably the only plane that held my clue to whatever was next.

"Uh," I responded uncertainly, "could I just stay here? I'll be fine."

"Actually," he disagreed, "I'm to escort you to the station to contact any relatives to supervise you until we find your dad." I shook my head, not budging. Think Cammie think. Getting to the airport should've been easy. Finding the money and the next envelope should've been simple. It's a shame that I wouldn't be able to do either because it won't be simple or easy getting passed this guy. Hello! He wasn't a trained officer for nothing. He was going to see right through me. "Uh, what about your mom? You could stay with her instead," he suggested. I felt my face become blank and I looked the policeman right in the eye.

"I don't know anything about my mom," I told him. "She left when I was born or something. That's all my dad ever said about her." I crossed my arms, wanting him to know that I was done talking about her. He stood there, looking defeated and unsure about how to deal with a teenage girl. Perfect. I would use that against him.

I glanced around, calculating the time I would need to get the envelope from the cupboard and to get some things in a backpack before going to the airport. "Can I get something to eat first?" I asked innocently and on perfect cue, my stomach rumbled. He sighed before nodding and I walked up to the cupboard to get a plate. The policeman turned his back as he took in the house. I took those quick seconds to stuff the envelope that I had stashed in there down my bra (I didn't have any pockets) but that didn't work. It was _way _too obvious looking. What now?

"Officer, I don't feel very well," I mumbled. I saw him look at me in alarm, but I turned away from him and sprinted up the stairs and into my room. I threw the envelope into my book bag and attached the watch to my arm. "I'll be down in five minutes!" I yelled from the closed doors. I was giving myself one minute to get packed. _One _minute. I scrambled through my drawers, packing a few changes of clothing. I flew into the bathroom and got my toothbrush and things like that. I wasn't really worried about packing _everything_. If I forgot something, I can just buy it with the hundred dollars… crap! I forgot about the money.

My heart was pounding and my fists were sweating as I sprinted to my dad's office, heading all the way for the desk. The top of the desk was clear except for a broken light and a phone. Just to be sure, I picked them up to see if anything was underneath. Nothing. I pulled open the drawers, quickly shuffling through the papers to find _something_. I felt guilty for looking through his things. He never let me before and I never tried. After two minutes of nothing, I heard the policeman beginning to come up the stairs. Dang it! I needed to lie. That was something I never really did before, even though my dad said he had nothing against lying... strange, considering all my friends were saying that _their _parents thought that lying was wrong.

"Ms. Morgan?" he asked uncertainly. "Is everything OK?" My father is _missing _and no one is giving me an explanation. Yep. Everything is just fine and dandy.

"I just," I paused, trying to come up with a good cover. "Can I, uh, have a few seconds alone with my dad's stuff?" I pretended to mourn over his things but the policeman didn't think anything of it (maybe he's met crazier people than me). Instead, he gave me a quick nod and lumbered back down stairs. So far, so good.

I closed my eyes, using a few seconds to collect myself. Where would someone hide a hundred bucks? Maybe there was some secret compartment underneath, just like there always were in the movies. I dove beneath the desk, accidentally hitting my head. "Ow," I mumbled and looked up. That was when I saw it. No, it wasn't the hundred dollars I spent five minutes looking for. That would fill me with relief. Instead, this just made me want to cry all over again.

It was a picture...

...of my mother.

***

Suzy's purring pulled me out of my daze. Right. The money. I glanced one more time at the picture before stuffing in my backpack. Dad wouldn't mind if I took it, I think. Besides, I couldn't ask him, considering that he was MIA.

Three minutes passed and I was so frustrated, my clumsiness knocked down the lamp. Crap. Crap. Crap. I reached down to pick up the lamp, when my fingers felt something papery in the lampshade. Could this be…? I flipped it over to see five twenty dollar bills paper-clipped to the side. I could've kicked myself for being so stupid.

"Ms. Morgan?" the police officer's voice came from below. He had heard the crash obviously.

"I'll--" I didn't know what to say. "I'll be right down. Just give me a few more minutes. I have to clean this up." I ran back to my room, locking it. Maybe that would give me more time before he knew I was missing.

I walked toward the window that overlooked the back and an old willow that I've used it tons of time to sneak out and see Josh. But now I would use it for something entirely different.

I brought the thirty pound book bag around my shoulders and maneuvered my way through the branches. "You can do this," I said to myself. "You've done this before tons of times." But never with this much weight on my back.

I landed from the tree, for once thanking my chameleon-ish ways, and set out into the evening. I needed a car. There was no way I could take Dad's. The police officer would definitely notice a vehicle speeding down the driveway and not only am I running away, I'm also driving without a license. I knew what I would have to do now. I had to steal. Lying and stealing was not my kind of thing but sometimes, a girl had to do what a girl had to do. That's when a brilliant idea struck my head.

Dillon. He was my neighbor (unfortunately). That guy was such a jerk. I couldn't believe Josh kept hanging out with him. I decided for him that he could go without a car for the next week. I slunk through the bushes as I made my way to his house. Then I took out the house key he told Josh (who told me) that was under his front door mat. I opened the back door and found Dillon's precious van. That guy wasn't so bright. For one thing, he left his keys in the ignition. Perfect. Considering that I have _no _idea how to hijack a car.

The engine rumbled to life as I opened the garage door. Hopefully Dillon's family was asleep, even though it was only like--I looked down at my watch--20:00. Whatever that meant. I pushed onto the pedal and it rolled forward, nearly into the wall. Oh yeah. You have to put it into reverse. Oopsy Daisy.

But that didn't matter. Because I was out of there. I could now savor my freedom as I raced to the nearest airport. Victory! I'd worry about the consequences later.

Sorry Dillon.

***

I sat on the plane, my heart still pounding from today's events. I'm not proud of what I did, but sometimes it was necessary. I had ran away, stolen a car, and drove without a license! People don't get locked up for that, right? I didn't want to be on the run my entire life. Not that it wasn't interesting... "You can now unfasten your seatbelts and go about the plane," the mechanical voice announced. This was now the time to look for the red envelope. Good thing I was in the back by myself. Apparently, not many people were going to London tonight. In fact, I was the only teenager on there except for some guy all the way in the front.

I pulled out the picture of my mother. I had never seen this woman before in my life, but I knew it had to be her. How could it not be? My dad was standing right beside her, looking like the happiest man in the world and my infant self was in their arms. Strange. Dad said he never took that many pictures because he said he didn't want too much evidence (I have no idea what he means by that). But then again, he also said once upon a time that I looked a lot like my mom. I didn't know how I could really trust his word since this woman I saw was beautiful. I, on the other hand, blended into everything.

"Hello, ma'am," some attendant greeted me and I quickly shoved the picture back. "Would you like anything to eat or drink?" I nodded, grabbing a bag of pretzels. I hadn't eaten in a while. That was when I heard a crash. I looked up to see a teenage boy around my age in a pile of cups and snack bags. I quickly got up to assist him while the attendant was apologizing.

"Thanks," came his quick reply. He was a head taller than me with dark hair. But I only got a glimpse of him since he avoided my eyes before he ran in the direction of the bathrooms. As he turned the corner, I thought I could detect a slight smirk on his face. I rolled my eyes and shrugged it off, heading back to my seat. That was when I saw it: the red envelope with the same, creepy aura about it. How could it just appear? I only left for a second!

I plopped myself back down on the seat. It didn't matter. I mean, I had it now, right? And to me, that was the only thing that matter. I took a deep breath. Hopefully this would give me some answers. Hopefully it'll give me my next move. My trembling hand slit open the top as I saw the first words: _Cameron Morgan_.

Then the plane came falling down.

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	3. Envelope 2

**I own nothing.**

**Sorry it took so long to update.**

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Life. Life is something most people take for granted. Not many people expect to die until it happens. And then BAM! You're gone. Dying can take one unlucky second. And that's all I had. I was going to die with this plummeting plane. They don't kid you when they say your life flashes before your eyes before you die.

I shut my eyes, thinking about everyone and everything that's impacted my life. Josh. He was the sweetest boyfriend on Earth. I could always rely on him. Dad. Sure, he was confusing but he was probably the smartest person I knew. I'll never forget it when he taught me to crack a government code when I was three. Suzy. She was my inhuman company for when Josh was busy and Dad was away on business. And her weird habit for laying on people's stomachs will never be forgotten. Everyone who I knew was in my mind as I felt the plane drop closer and closer to the Atlantic. Even the mother I didn't know contributed to my memories as I waited for impact. That was when I heard the voice.

"Cammie!" yelled a man. Before I could say anything back, he grabbed my waist and pulled me through the chaos to the plane door. Below me, I saw another figure racing toward the Earth. "Ok. On the count of three, we're going to jump." I swung my back pack tightly over my shoulders. "One." I closed my eyes. Should I trust him? Well, this stranger _had _to be better than this, right? What's going to happen to everyone else? "Two." Oh crap! Suzy! Who was I going to give her to? "Three." I heard someone scream. It might've been me. That's when the man jumped, pulling me with him. I kept my eyes closed as I felt the air rush up against my face as I accelerated into the water.

I felt my feet hit and the rest of my body followed, soaking every part of my body. I looked at my sopping book bag, hoping that the unfinished letter I read wasn't drenched beyond comprehension.

Automatically, I began to shiver. Goosebumps appeared on my arms and then covered my body. Somewhere in the distance, I heard a louder crash and I knew it was the plane being blown to bits. What just happened? Why am I not dead? "Cammie," the man said calmly. "Do you know how to swim?" I nodded, not using any energy on speaking. Of course I knew how to swim. My dad made sure I did.

"Ok then, there should be another boat maybe a mile from here," the man said, shaking the water from his hair. I looked at him questioningly. How would he know that there's a boat? "I called for a boat as soon as I saw the plane falling," he explained to me, as if he could read my mind. That's when I _really _got a good look at him. Yeah, he was… good-looking… in an older generation kind of way. "Who are you?" I demanded, trying not to sound ungracious. He _did _save my life after all. "Why didn't you try to save anyone else? And what about the other person who fell before us?"

He swam against the waves, but kept his head above water as he answered, "Joe Solomon and if I had time to save everyone, I would. But sometimes you have to make sacrifices to save something more vital." He meant me. Why though? Why was I so important all of a sudden? "And as for that other guy, he can take care of himself. He's probably safe by now. C'mon, Cammie, we're wasting time. Questions _later_." I raced after him, but not before asking him one more question.

"How do you know my name?"

He looked at me strangely. "I knew your father. He told me."

***

I think we were swimming for ten minutes before we finally saw civilization in the form of two people on a boat. "Hey," I called out faintly, my breath coming hard. "Over here!" The two figures looked at us, and I think they could see relief on their faces.

They began rowing in our direction. Thank God. I used the last of my strength to pull myself on to the small boat, resting there for a few seconds. I can't believe I just witnessed a plane crash. At least twenty people had fallen to their death. Good thing not many people were on that flight. I used these seconds of silence to mourn them. I slowly opened my eyes to find two dark ones staring down at me.

I squeaked and stood up too quickly. Bad idea. Now my head was pounding. The cappuccino-skinned girl looked from me and then back to an older man who slightly resembled her. "Well, she's pretty squeamish." She faced me again and smiled sweetly. "Don't worry. We don't bite," her British accent rang through the crashing waves.

I nodded shyly. In the corner of my eyes, I saw Solomon and this girl's dad shake hands like cronies. Was my dad friends with this Joe Solomon person as this girl's dad was? Dad. My stomach immediately tightened. I really hoped my dad was ok. I mean, he usually was a cautious guy and I knew he could use self-defense, but that didn't mean he'd stay out of trouble. "I'm Cammie," I greeted before holding out a hand.

She smiled brightly before shaking it. "I know," she answered. Ok, what's with these strangers knowing me? "The name's Bex Baxter. That's my dad over there, obviously. And you know Mr. Solomon already." I returned the smile before shivering violently. "Shoot. Sorry! I forgot you'd be cold." She quickly handed me a towel. "The other guy didn't really use it. I'm sure it's fine." It was. I thanked her and sat in the back of the boat.

"Ok, Dad," she called out, "let's go!" She grabbed hold of the steering wheel and maneuvered her way toward shore. I took this time to read the letter I never got to. I used my towel to take it out, careful I wouldn't get the paper wet.

Looking around me to see if anyone was looking, I began to read where I left off:

_Cameron Morgan:_

_I know you want answers but I'm afraid we'll have to meet in person to discuss everything. I know I said this in my last letter, but I want you to be wary of every step you take. I hope your flight gets you to London in once piece. In the front of the plane, there's a man name Solomon . Find him. Tell him his _head boss _needs him back for _business_. He'll know what it means. All these letters will be short. Even though I trust my messenger, I have to be prepared for accidents. And so should you. When you arrive at London, go left and find the first blue house with a clover on the door. Knock and tell them that you're looking for Duchess. They will help you. Wait for your next instructions._

_Sincerely,_

_A Friend_

_P.S. Tell Solomon that it wasn't his fault. Sometimes things just happen. He'll know who I am._

Right. Could this be anymore cryptic? I closed my eyes, pondering this. No news was so frustrating. News written in mysterious ways was too much for me to think about. Well, I know one thing. Mr. Solomon is _not _sending these. That rules out one man from a billion human beings. Super. One step closer! I reopened my eyes to find myself on the shores of Great Britain.

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	4. Envelope 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**Hey people. Sorry I haven't updated. I've been grounded and stuff. Sorry if this is short. I'll try to make the next chapter longer. :]**One thing can change your life. We go down one path, only to be stopped, and then we must follow another. That's what my grandma from Nebraska always told me. We can never get too comfortable in our own shoes because we grow out of them, which basically means that life is full of never-ending changes. I can take that--changes, I mean-- but I can _not _take my dad disappearing, red envelopes, stealing a car, jumping out of a plane, watching twenty people die, and then coming to England (especially since the only exotic place I've been to was Nebraska) in just twelve hours. I didn't think my poor body could have taken that but yet here I stand, cold and wet at some random place in Great Britain.

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"We're here!" Bex announced happily, stating the obvious. As soon as we pulled the boat in, she jumped off and ran throughout the dock, holding out her arms and spinning. A passerby would think she was just enjoying the scenery but this odd instinct in me knew that was only half of it. "Cammie!" she cried enthusiastically as if we've been best friends for life. "Come on!" I bounded after her, shivering in the towel that incased me. I began laughing at her carefree movements, wondering all the while if I could ever be like that again--carefree I mean.

Behind me, Mr. Solomon and Bex's dad followed, talking quietly about something. Whatever it was, it was important. I could tell by their frantic gestures. Oh wait! I forgot about the letters. "Mr. Solomon?" I said timidly, clutching the note into my hands. I didn't know how I could get all shy all of the sudden. Even though I wasn't loud and outgoing, I'm not scared of passing news onto someone.

I was just about to mention the letter when someone on a bike came whizzing pass me, gently elbowing me. Well, it was supposed to gentle I think, but the momentum of the guy knocked me over, which took away the last of my patience. "What's your problem?" I screamed to him from the ground, not caring if I was being rude for once in my life.

He looked back quickly and for a second, his blue eyes locked onto mine. Oh. My. Gosh. Was that the guy from the plane? No, it can't be. I'm probably just seeing things. Maybe I'm becoming delirious. I laid there, dumbfounded, until people with English accents were yelling at me to get off the side of the street. "Sorry," I mumbled and stood up, almost falling again from something red beneath me. Oh crap. It was another envelope. These envelopes were becoming a sign of bad luck.

I picked it up nonetheless, and concealed it in my towel. "Yes, Cammie?" Mr. Solomon asked. It took me a few moments to remember what we were talking about.

"I got some--" I paused, trying to figure out how to phrase this, "news that said your head boss needs you back for business?" I watched Mr. Solomon's poker face show an ounce of panic.

"Where could you have gotten that piece of information?" he asked but I only shrugged, remembering the first letter. I couldn't tell _anyone _about it. He kept a steady gaze on me, realizing I wouldn't say anything, before continuing, "Are you sure this is legit?" I nodded quickly. I watched him share the slightest glance with Mr. Baxter. "You can take Cammie," I saw him mouth. I'm glad I could read lips or I wouldn't know anything these men were saying.

Mr. Solomon started off in the opposite direction when I stopped him, "Wait. I have one more thing. I don't know who said this but they said that it wasn't your fault. Things just happen." For the first time, I saw emotion in that man's face. He turned away, ignoring me.

I hate these stupid red envelopes! From what I could tell, no one liked the news that was in it. "Cammie!" Bex called out to me for the second time that day, pulling me out of self-wallowing. "Let's go! Bloody hell. I forgot that you're probably freezing right now!" I shuffled up to her to find her holding a change of clothes. "I had to guess your size so don't eat me if I'm wrong. You can change in a bathroom or something. I _think_ that those ones over there haven't been quarantined." She wrinkled her nose and point to some run-down bathrooms. "We'll wait for you over there." She headed to the bench and waved at me.

I was ten feet away from the restrooms when I could already smell the odor. Oh crap. This was disgusting. I daintily pushed open the door and saw paper towels strewed across the floor and graffiti covering the walls. Yuck.

I finally made my way to the bathroom stalls and took out the letter I found next to me. I don't know how these mysteriously found their way to me and I didn't like not knowing. All I wanted was answers, not more questions. I squinted at my name and read:

_Cameron Morgan:_

_There's been a change of plans. News travels fast and I heard of the incident above the Atlantic. I'm relieved that you've survived. However, you're not going to London anymore. Stay with Duchess. Remember to say nothing to anyone. Trust no one except them. Whatever they put you through _will _be difficult, but the ends will fit together. Duchess will tell you the truth. I've talked to her already about it. Listen to what she says. Don't trust too easily and stay on your guard._

_Sincerely,_

_A friend_

_P.S. Suzy hasn't been neglected. We've taken care of her._

I tore up this letter, but immediately regretted it. All I knew right now was this third envelope told me three things. More danger was ahead, Duchess (whoever that was) would help me, and Suzy was ok. The only thing I liked out of that was the Suzy part. Already, I wished I could go back to being that carefree girl. My grandma was right. One thing can change your life. And I knew I was not going to like it.

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